


Niche

by TheDeathEcchi



Category: inFAMOUS (Video Game)
Genre: Multi, Science Fiction, Slice of Life, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 08:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2222154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDeathEcchi/pseuds/TheDeathEcchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The life of a Conduit isn't easy. Ostracized, hunted, captured, or killed; those are the only real options. But with the right group of friends, you can carve out a niche for yourself in this crazy, power-fueled world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Niche

_Envelop. Consume. Spread._

"Quiet..."

_Everywhere. Everything. Blanket it all._

I gripped my head, squeezing my skull in attempt to block out the voices. "Cut it out. Stop talking..."

_Cover. Everything._

I hit the table with my fist, hard. "Shut up!"

A few people looked up, wide-eyed, staring. Embarrassed, I looked away, gathering up some napkins to wipe away the coffee I'd accidentally spilled. I adjusted my glasses, pushing the circular black frames into place in front of my eyes.

I hate the sun. I know that sounds emo, but I really do. I can't fucking stand it. It's too bright. And it's too hot. And worst of all, the light it sheds...light is a horrible thing. All it does is illuminate everything shitty about the world. It's not like the darkness. It's so limitless and comforting. And there's nothing to be seen in the dark. We're all the same in the dark. Yes, the darkness is comforting.

I sigh, wiping up the last of the coffee. I look in the cup and groan at the sight of almost all the coffee gone. Before I can even call someone, a figure zooms over to the table.

"Need a refill?" asks the pretty waitress, holding up a coffee pot and flashing a pretty smile.

"Sure." I reply, holding up my mug. She fills it to the brim and I take a sip. It's good, but could use some cream and sugar. Lots of it.

"Don't think I've seen you 'round here before, darlin'." she comments in a breezy Southern twang. "Out a towner?"

I chuckle wryly. "'Out of towner'...something like that. Why so curious?"

She laughs a little and brushes a lock of raven hair from her face. "Jus' interested." she replied. "That, 'n I haven't seen anyone as cute as you in some time now."

I blush at the compliment and snatch up a packet of sugar to pour. My hands are shaking however, and I spill a little sugar onto the table. Smooth.

"Got a name, by any chance?" she asks, shaking the pot lightly.

I realize she's simply making conversation because it's part of her job, but there's something about her that makes me want to talk. And I'm fairly reserved; a guy of few words. I give her a quick look.

She's tall for a waitress; usually restaurants try to get tiny little things for the patrons to drool over. But she doesn't fit the bill, not by a long shot. She's got a pretty face, dotted with freckles and her blue eyes...they're warm and inviting. The waitress uniform actually looks fairly good on her. She's fit, too; toned arms, legs, and calves, but plenty of curves, all in the right places. Dare I say it? She's hot.

But I have to be cautious. You never know who's watching, after all. I wrack my brains for a name, some kind of cover to give this girl. "S-Smith."

She quirks an eyebrow. "Smith?"

"...Yeah?"

"You askin' or tellin'?"

I sigh. Who'm I kidding? Might as well come clean. Besides, there aren't a lot of people in the diner. If the DUPs are really here, then I guess my paranoia will be justified.

"Look," I say, trying to keep the conspirator's tone out of my voice. "I don't really have a name. It's more like an alias."

"Alias, huh?" she repeats. "Never cared much for that show. Too slow, if ya ask me." Oh, she's funny, too. "A'right, then; what's yer 'alias'?"

"...Shades."

She snorts a little, which makes me huff. Why is that funny? "'Shades.' 'Cuz of tha glasses?"

...Okay, I never actually thought about it like that. 

"Not...exactly." I take a deep breath. "Watch this."

She keeps an eye on me, and I concentrate. It's usually hard to use my powers in light, but it works most of the time. If it was darker, she'd be in for a real show.

The shadows of the objects on the table shake, as though afraid. Then, like magic, they move. Not with the sun, but independent. Reaching a hand out, I pluck them from their bearers, holding the swirling shadows in my hand as they dance about, like liquid from a lava lamp.

She gasps and drops the pot in surprise, and I react without even really thinking about it. A hand bursts from the pot's shadow and catches it, pushing it up and setting it onto the table.

"Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-Yer a C-C-C--"

"Try not to say it out loud." I whisper sharply. "I'm trying to keep a low profile."

"Yer a Conduit!" she squeaks, her face going pale.

I snap my fingers, returning the shadows to their proper places. "Yep. S'why they call me Shades."

She's silent, as if she's trying to come to grips with the situation. I sip my coffee, letting it all sink in. I doubt it's often she runs into a Conduit.

A Conduit's life isn't easy. Most of it's spent running from the DUP, or if you've been unlucky enough to get picked up by them, you're stuck at the Cay, getting poked and prodded with needles day in and stay out, staring out the inside of a fishbowl, bleak, empty, lifeless. But I was lucky. My power, Darkness, makes hiding easy. 

"'Ey, Wendy!" comes the gruff bark of the boss. "You got other customers, y'know!"

"S-Sorry!" she replies, having broken out of her stupor. She moves to leave to tend to the other diners, but not before leaning over and whispering in my ear. "Meet me outside this place when my shift ends at nine."

It's dangerous. It's stupid. It's probably a setup. It's almost assuredly a setup. Every single part of me is screaming to just bolt from this town and find a new place to hide, like I have for the last couple of months.

But...

There's something about her.

-/-/-/-/-

Nine rolls around, and I appear from my hiding spot. The thing is, everything in this world casts a shadow, and that makes for prime hiding spots. No matter how big or how small the object, I can disappear into it completely, and no one's the wiser. I don't even show up on radar. It's pretty awesome.

She spots me and waves, racing over to me. The little voice(es) in my head are telling me to bounce, but...what the heck. I'm good at getting out of jams. And she _is_ pretty cute.

"Some manners ah got." she laughs as she reaches me, brushing her hands off on her apron before extending one to me. "Name's Wendy."

"I kinda caught that." I say as I take her hand and shake it. "Your boss pretty much howled it."

She giggled. "Yeah. Anyway, come with me. Ah gotta show ya something." Without even waiting for my answer, she grabbed my wrist and pulled. True to her size, she was strong, and I was styrofoam to her. 

She led me down the city streets, cars and streetlamps becoming blurs as we whizzed by. Twists and turn that were so eldritch and foreign to me seemed like a long, straight line to her. But given she was a native to this town, I suppose that was to be expected. 

"We're here!" she exclaimed, grinning ear to ear. Finally, after a journey that lasted far too short for me, we stopped in front of an old, decrepit house, tucked away from the more splendid dwellings near the city center. Shingles were falling, vines and flora were choking the house, and windows were boarded shut. Paint was peeling, the foundation was tilting, and overall, the house had seen better days.

"Uh..." I looked up at the house, and as if by some kind of punchline, a shingle fell, shattering as it hit the ground. "So, that's...that's a house, alright." What could I say? 'Your house looks like crap?' That's not exactly polite. She's a waitress; it's probably all she can afford.

"Not the prettiest sight, huh?" she smirked, hopping up to the door. Her hair looked glossy in the moonlight; kinda pretty, actually. She held up a hand and knocked on the door, but in a sort of strange way: two quick knocks, followed by three long ones.

Silence reigned for a few seconds before the door opened, revealing a young man, looking as though he'd been woken from a peaceful rest. Dressed in leather pants and black boots, he was naked from the waist up, toned, bare chest on display for the world to see. His hair, black as the night sky, was loose and wavy, like a rock star's. As he stood in the doorway, he yawned, revealing three gold teeth and silver tongue piercing. He blinked a few times, to get the sleep out of his eyes, before staring down at Wendy and I.

"'Oo tha fuck izzat?" asked the youth in a Cockney accent, pointing a black-nailed finger at me.

"Simmer, Lewis." cut in Wendy, flashing me a smile. "He's cool. Shades, show 'im what you can do."

I looked at her blankly, unsure of what to do. She wanted me to show my Conduit powers? In front of this...I let my gaze linger on his pale chest...admittedly hot guy?

"Uh...what should I do?"

"Somethin'! Like...ooh, you can turn inta shadows, right? Do that!"

Lewis snorted. "Turn to shadows? This shrimp's a Conduit? I bet'er see sum proof."

I gulped nervously, and decided I better get this show on the road. I took a deep breath, tensed up, and jumped. As I hit the ground, I felt the familiar sensation of my body dissolving into innumerable shadows, becoming one with my home, the darkness. Focusing, I raced across the shadows, bursting back into existence inches in front of Lewis, who regarded me with steely blue eyes.

He cocked an eyebrow, clicking his tongue. "'Ey. 'E ain't 'alf bad." He tapped my shoulder. "What's yer name again, kid?"

"Shades."

Lewis thrust out a hand. "Lewis by name." he introduced, shaking my hand with the force of two Mack trucks. "Earf is my game."

As if to affirm his statement, a clod of earth formed in his hand and he pressed it into mine. I gazed in wonder at the display, mouthing 'Wow' in surprise. 

"See, ah told you!" laughed Wendy, clapping her hands together happily. "Ah knew there was one around."

Lewis rolled his eyes and groaned. "Yeah, yeah, you were right and shit. Just c'mon in, tha two 'a ya."

For the second time that day, I was yanked in before I could give a proper answer, Wendy following close behind and closing the door. What I saw made me gasp. 

The house was decaying and rotting on the inside, but in the inside, it was modern, hip, _new_. Like something you'd see on the inside of an Ikea catalogue. Hardwood floor, a mahogany coffee table, little bookcases, plants in the corners, and a huge TV. In the center was a huge chandelier, bright, almost too bright and I had to squint a little.

Once my eyes adjusted, I could make out the other occupants in the room. Two boys, three girls. 

One of the boys was on a couch in a neon green bathrobe, flipping through an auto magazine, looking bored as he did so. His pale grey eyes flickered every now and again, though I couldn't figure out why. The other boy, lighter-skinned than the first, wearing a simple black shirt and grey shorts, was sitting against the couch, headphones snugly nestled over his ears, bobbing his head to the music and playing imaginary drums as he mouthed lyrics.

Two of the three girls were on another couch, half-naked and in the midst of what looked like a heavy make out session. The third was passed out on the coffee table in the center of the room.

"'Ey, listen up, ya brats!" shouted Lewis, clapping his hands loudly and garnering attention almost immediately. The sleeping girl rose with a groan, a poker chip stuck to her olive cheek. He swatted me on the back, nearly sending me to the floor. "This 'ere is Shades, new guy. And ya better treat 'im right!"

Wait, what!? 

"Hey, what's up?" said a tall, caramel-skinned blonde, before pulling the other girl, black with electric blue hair, back into their snog-fest, the blue-haired girl she was kissing offering a friendly little wave.

The girl with the poker chip stuck to her cheek yawned and waved, still looking half-asleep. The kid with the headphones shouted "Hey!" before returning to his air drumming. The guy reading the magazine nodded, continuing to read his magazine. 

Lewis facepalmed, grumbling swears under his breath. "Gotta fuckin' do ev'ryfing..." He pointed to the two girls in the couch. "Blondie over there's Venus. She'n her smooch over there, Raine, are permanently stuck at the fuckin' mouf."

Without even turning away, Venus flipped the bird at Lewis, who flipped it right back. He then pointed to the boy jamming in his headphones, oblivious to all but the music. "'At there's Boze. Though, don't really matter what we call 'im SINCE 'E CAN'T FUCKING 'EAR ANYFING WITH THOSE BLOODY 'EADPHONES IN ALL THA TIME!"

Boze remained oblivious, looking as though he was having the time of his life, drumming like he was having an imaginary concert. Lewis shook his head and pointed to the half-asleep girl still draped over the table like an afghan. "She's Krystal. And I guess 'at wraps up the intros." He made his way to the stairs, kicking a throw pillow out of the way. "Any a you slags need me, find someone else, 'cuz ah'm fuckin' exhausted." He clomped up the stairs, his footsteps cut off by the sound of a door slamming.

Which left me with this weird group. Alone.

"Well, whaddya think?" 

Oh, right. Wendy was here. I turned to face her, shuffling my feet awkwardly. I'm not so good with new people. And first impressions were never really my forte. "Uh..."

She laughed, that musical little laugh, before giving me a pat on the shoulder. "Relax. You're among friends."

"How do you mean?" I asked, having finally found my voice. 

Wendy gave me a look, as though I'd said something strange. "Whaddya mean 'how do I mean?'" Then she said something that totally shocked me. "These guys're all Conduits."

**END**


End file.
